Fatebinder
by Sereven
Summary: Living in a world ruled by a Dark Lord is never easy. Serving said Dark Lord is even worse. But in a world where Grindelwald took all of Europe and built himself an Empire, all have to make a choice. Serve or die. Harry never got the chance to make this decision for himself. Forced to serve one of Grindelwald's Archons, his loyalties and convictions are tested each day...
1. An Archon's regret

**Hi there. This story is loosely based on some of the core concepts of the PC game Tyranny. The basic premise is that the bad guys won. But not Voldemort and his army of mindless canon-fodder, but Grindelwald and his followers. Gellert Grindelwald rules magical Europe as its Overlord with an iron fist and the most powerful of his servants are his Archons. Men like Dumbledore, whose power is undisputed and who serve Grindelwald, some more willing than others. In Grindelwalds Empire the Archons serve different high ranking roles. Some are governors of provinces, other lead armies or important groups and orders.**

 **Harry will play the role of a Fatebinder, a servant of the Archon of Justice. The Fatebinders are the judges and executioners of the Overlord's law. In their role, they often resolve disputes and see to it that the Overlord's laws are followed. It is, within reason, their duty to decide who serves the law and who doesn't.**

 **The different roles of th** **e Archons and Fatebinders will be explained in greater detail as the story continues. But except for the concept of Overlord, Archons, and Fatebinders, I won't add much else from the game, so it isn't really a crossover story.**

 **So, have fun with the short prolog...**

* * *

 **Thule 1981**

It was a warm day in late Summer, as Albus Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Archon of Secrets and Headmaster of Hogwarts arrived at the Arcanorum on the island of Thule, the center of the Grindelwald Empire.

A wistful sigh escaped the old wizard, as he stroked his beard and watched the young boy play in the gardens below. Such an innocent child, so full of life… yet he was already weighed down by a burden greater than himself. It was his fault that the boy was here. It was his fault that the child would see a dark future in the service of the greater evil in the world. But for the boy to live, there was no other choice.

His childhood, a precious time in his life, was about to end. A terrible fate for a boy that had just passed the age of three. But it was also necessary. At least the old wizard told himself this, to placate his burdened mind.

"Such a forlorn look of worry hardly suits you, Albus."

The old wizard turned around, to look upon the newcomer. It was a woman, youthful in her looks and easy with her smiles. She was a master at deception, one who had even cheated time and death itself in her many years on this world. Her husband's invention, the Philosopher's Stone and the Elixir of Life had granted them riches and eternal youth, but Albus knew better than to believe that they have everything they could ever want.

"Perenelle," Albus greeted her cordially.

He had liked her once, but that had been in better times before he had come to see her true nature. The nature that had earned her the rank of an Archon in the Overlord's evergrowing army. The Archon of Justice they call her these days, but her actions are hardly just. Only the Overlord's will matters to her. Once upon a time she had been a good and gentle woman, a motherly figure in the time he had been her husband's apprentice. Those times were long gone now.

"Every time I see you it seems like you have aged another decade, Albus," Perenelle jested, "Next to me you are a child barely grown, yet you look old enough for people to mistake you as my grandfather."

"If I recall correctly, it's actually been almost twelve years now since we have last met," Albus told her, a thoughtful look on his face. "It was at the party of Celine Lacroix, her one-hundred and nineteenth birthday."

"Ah, yes. Celine, may her soul rest in peace," a pang of sadness had assaulted Perenelle, as she was reminded of yet another friend, long gone and nearly forgotten by time. "Her celebrations had always been so vibrant. She even managed to ensnare our overlord on more than one occasion. Oh well, she had been the Archon of Song for a reason. I only wish she had taken my offer and used the Elixir..."

"We both know she wasn't the kind of person to seek eternal life," Albus reminded her gently.

Perenelle chuckled, "I can still hear her chiding me. All good things must come to an end, Penny, and a life without death would be incomplete."

"Indeed," Albus agreed before he sighed. He had been given the same offer once, by Perenelle's husband, but he had declined for similar reasons. "But maybe we should get to business. I don't want the boy to remain alone for too long."

Albus and Perenelle looked down towards the boy, just as the child was about to pluck a flower from the perfectly kept garden. The flower, a white rose, seemed to draw his attention for reasons unknown. Her thorns were no deterrent and the flower itself wilted and turned to dust within moments of the boy touching it.

"So it is true, Iolanthe's cursed bloodline still exists in this world. I had hoped for so long that we would never see it again," Perenelle said. "Oh my dear friend, you would weep knowing that your descendants have to suffer your fate as well."

"He first awoke it two days ago," Albus explained, "Luckily he only destroyed the toy broom he had been sitting on. He could have hurt his little sister or some other person just by touching them."

The boy loves his little sister and used to carry her around all the time. She is just a baby and sleeps most of the day, but he loves her all the same. Had he carried her as his bloodline awakened, the baby might have died a horrid death. Albus didn't even want to imagine the damage this would have done to the boy and his family...

"So young..." Perenelle muttered, "Iolanthe first awakened this destructive power after her magic had fully manifested. I still remember the day. We had been riding, as this cursed magic made quick work of her horse. She had been so distraught at that time... It took her years to learn how to control this power."

"He has no control over it, either. I had no choice but to come here and involve you," Albus told her directly. He had no reason to hide his distaste of the situation and the repercussions that would follow.

Perenelle showed him a feral smirk, as she looked at him. "Oh, I almost get the feeling that you don't like me anymore, Albus. Still sore about that one time I had to spank you for blowing up Nicholas potion's lab?"

"That was entirely an accident, Perenelle," the old wizard replied stubbornly, looking flustered as he was reminded of that particularly embarrassing moment. He would rather forget about it, but Perenelle had found many inappropriate occasions to remind him of it.

"You did not follow Nicholas' instructions, such a bad student," she continued. An amused smile played on her lips and her pale green eyes sparkled with mischief that Albus usually only saw in the eyes of his most troublesome students at Hogwarts.

"Need I remind you that I was twenty-three at that time and very much capable of creating such a simple potion without Nicholas hovering behind me all the time?" he protested, "And your draconic punishment was entirely unwarranted."

"Admit it, you enjoyed it," she said coyly, "Or maybe you wanted someone else to do the spanking. Someone like dear old Gellert..."

"Don't even say his name out loud," Albus groused, "It is bad enough that you and Nicholas are so utterly devoted to him these days, I don't need you to jinx something and summon him here on accident."

"One day you will have to face him again, Albus," Perenelle told him, as she placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. "He is not the monster you want to see him as. And to your information, he will likely be here later this week to see the boy. Who knows, maybe he will even arrive today. I forgot to have a look at his schedule earlier this week when I visited him."

"I had wished you could keep this as quiet as possible. I really don't want Gellert to be involved in the boy's life. Giving him to an Archon is bad enough as it is, but you are the only one who knows how Iolanthe Peverell controlled this curse," Albus sighed.

Again he watched the child in the garden. The little boy was looking around, searching. No one could really know what the boy was looking for. A new toy to keep his hands busy? Or maybe just something that wouldn't turn to dust at his touch...

"Gellert has done terrible things, Perenelle. Even you can't deny that. His crimes are inexcusable... and I..."

"You, Albus, walked away. Of all the people you are the last man who should dare to hurl accusations at our Overlord. You had your chance to stop him, but you just couldn't be bothered. You walked away from your chance to change the course of history. And you benefitted from his rise to power just as much as the rest of us. No one is innocent. Not you, not me, not even that little boy in this garden. We are both Archons now, so get down off your high horse and accept the world as it is."

Albus could only shake his head. So many regrets. Becoming an Archon in Gellert's new empire was not much of an honor, it was a burden and a stigma. He should have stopped Gellert before everything had gotten out of hand. He had not, though, and now the entire world would pay the price. Much had changed and these days Gellert had become nigh on untouchable even for him.

Suddenly Perenelle perked up. "Maybe you should leave, Albus," Perenelle said. "Gellert has just entered the wards of the mansion. Unless you want a reunion now, you should go home."

Albus shot the boy one last look. "I'm sorry," he whispered. His eyes lingered on the dark-haired child for one more moment, before he apparated away.

Perenelle closed her eyes and enjoyed the sudden presence of power near her. Like waves rolling onto the shore, the power of the Overlord rolled over hers. No one knew how Gellert Grindelwald had gotten this powerful, but one day she would find out. For now, she was content to bask in his power. The mere presence of him was overwhelming, intoxicating... if he wanted her to feel it. He was very apt at hiding it as well.

"So he ran again. That coward."

Perenelle turned around and bowed deeply before the man. Her long blonde hair fell around her face, hiding it like a curtain of spun gold, as she greeted her overlord.

And there before her stood Gellert Grindelwald. The conqueror of Europe's magical communities, the Overlord of the new magical world. Untouched by the ravages of time, proud and strong. The man who would one day rule the whole world, magical and mundane.

"My lord," Perenelle intoned, "Archon Dumbledore has just left the premises."

"As expected," the overlord muttered angrily, "Even leniency for the sake of past friendship has its bounds. One day I will have to address his lack of respect and decorum." He grumbled something more, but Perenelle had not been able to understand the words. It wasn't the heavily accented French that he would usually speak with her. Neither was it English nor German.

"I shall take him to task if that is what you wish," Perenelle said. Another spanking perhaps? No, better not. His old bones might crack and he might truly enjoy it more than intended. Maybe she would just turn his beard on fire as a last warning or something like that. Something amusing, so she would have a memory to show the Overlord, but no lasting damage. Despite everything, she considered his infractions too minor for lethal consequences. It wouldn't be just.

There was a hum from Grindelwald, but no certain answer, "Raise your head, Perenelle. I can't have my Justice blinded by worship."

"As you say," she raised her head again and looked at him. Her green eyes staring into his unyieldingly and cold blue. He didn't look at her for long, much to her disappointment, but instead, his gaze searched the young child in the garden.

"So this is the boy. A true descendant of the Peverell family," the overlord said, as she reached the balustrade and looked down towards the child.

Perenelle knew how obsessed her master was with this particular family. Gellert Grindelwald has the Elder Wand, one of the three artifacts that once belonged to the legendary Peverell family. To see a true descendant of their blood must be quite intriguing for the Overlord. To Perenelle it was a chance to fulfill the promise she had given an old friend who had died so many centuries ago...

"Yes. He has Iolanthe's bloodline. I would recognize it anywhere. It is the same cursed ability."

Grindelwald looked to be in deep thought, as his eyes followed the boy below. Perenelle could only guess what her master was thinking about, though deep down she knew that some of those dark secrets should better remain unknown.

"House Peverell will rise again and serve my empire. Make sure to train him properly, Perenelle. I will be watching," the overlord ordered before he turned around and disappeared into the mansion once more, likely to find Nicholas for some reason or another.

A small smile spread on the witch's face, as she began to make plans for the boy. "Looks like I get to keep you for myself, little Harry. We will have so much fun, that's a promise!"

* * *

 **A/N: That's all for today, more will follow soon.**

 **So why is Grindelwald in power now? Because Albus Dumbledore did not face him. In the moment of truth, the great wizard walked away, unable to bring himself to fight his former friend. The consequences of this decision had been far more severe than anything Dumbledore could have foreseen. But his choice not to fight Gellert also earned him a place in Grindelwald's army, even though he is likely the most reluctant amongst all the Archons now.**

 **I'm sure many have realized where I got the inspiration for Harry's bloodline. I am aware that Quirrell died because of the protective charm Lily had left on Harry, but I thought that it would also be an interesting ability to have. It would be both a boon and a curse, so I turned it into a bloodline that had been dormant for centuries.**

 **As for the pairing, in the end, it will be either Fleur or Daphne. I had considered Tonks and Gabrielle as well, but I have different plans for dear old Dora and Gabrielle will remain her canon age, so she is far too young. And sorry, no Ginny or Hermione pairing. There are just too many stories for those pairing on this site, so I don't see the need to add another one. There are many great stories for readers who like those pairings.**

 **So much for the prolog. Next chapter will start with the main story in the year 1994...**


	2. Runes of Binding

**Alright, sorry it took me so long to update. I was preoccupied with other things and kind of forgot to upload the new chapters I had written for this story. My bad, sorry. Wi will try to do better.**

 **There isn't much to say here, so I keep this brief and just let you read the short chapter. This is in a way an extension of the prolog. The first few chapters will follow Harry's path as he grows up to become a Fatebinder before we move on to the main plot. After my first few drafts for this story, I had come to realize that it is better to show things instead of leaving it to narration during the main part of the story.**

 **So, have fun...**

* * *

It was an odd and quite certainly frightening time for you Harry Potter, as the three-year-old boy sat in a barren room without windows. He had no idea why he was here, neither did he know where his parents were at that moment. He felt alone and weary.

But the worst thing in all of this was the odd man who was in the room with him. He looked to be as old as his dad, but unlike him, this man had a neatly trimmed beard and piercing blue eyes that scrutinized him relentlessly.

Neither of the two said a word. Harry was too scared to speak and the man was obviously not in the mood to entertain a conversation with a little boy.

Harry didn't want to look at the man, so he looked around, searching for something, anything familiar. But there was nothing. It was just an empty white room with a table and two chairs. The door to his left, the only way to enter or exit the room, was shut tight.

He just wanted to get out. To go home. He couldn't understand why Uncle Albus had dropped him off at this strange place. Had he done something wrong? Had he been bad and this was his punishment? If so, he didn't want to be bad again. This was terrifying.

Or was this Uncle Albus doing? Dad had always told him that Uncle Albus is a good man and that he can trust him without hesitation. But why had he abandoned him here then?

Finally, the door opened, for the first time in at least an hour. Or at least it had felt like an hour to the young boy. A woman entered and closed the door behind her. Unlike the man, she looked at him with warm eyes and a kind smile, something that reassured him a bit. But she was dressed weirdly. Like one of those bad people from those strange muggle movies, Uncle Sirius was not supposed to watch while babysitting.

"This boy is boring, Penny," the man suddenly spoke, followed by a bored yawn. "You promised me an ancient bloodline, but all he ever does is look at his feet and sulk."

"Stop being such a baby, Nicholas," the woman chided, much like Harry's mom would chide his father whenever he says something dumb, "You are not exactly the most pleasant company for a child, either. And why is he even in this room? I remember giving the order to take him to a dining room to feed him."

"With Iolanthe's bloodline? He is too dangerous until we have that curse under control. This place is better suited for what needs to be done. Fewer things for him to destroy," Nicholas replied indignantly. "You should know best how bad this kind of magic can get."

"I know," she hissed, as her right hand brushed over the upper part of her left arm. "But scaring him like this will hardly make this any easier,"

Harry watched the exchange wide-eyed. He didn't understand anything these people were saying, but he was sure it had something to do with his hands. Everything he touches turns to dust. His mom and dad had been scared of him. They wouldn't even let him see Dahlia before Uncle Albus came and took him away. And even the old and wise wizard didn't dare to touch him more than necessary. No hugs, no ruffling his hair, not even the usual fond smile of a benign grandfather. Only looks of worry and bitterness.

"Hello there, my dear," the woman suddenly stood before Harry, kneeling down so she would be on the same eye-level as him.

Her eyes were green, like his mom's, Harry noted. But much paler and less vibrant…

"I know this all must be really scary and bad for you right now, Harry," the woman continued, "But I can promise you that we are here to help you. Even my bore of a husband." Nicholas only huffed in the background, clearly annoyed by this description.

"Who… who are you?" Harry asked, albeit hesitantly.

The woman smiled encouragingly, before she answered, "I am Perenelle. And that grouch over there is my husband Nicholas. We are old friends Albus Dumbledore and he has brought you to us so we can help you with that… special ability you have."

"Right," Nicholas added from the other side of the table, "Time to start with some tests."

Before either Harry or Perenelle could react, Nicholas had conjured something and threw it towards the boy.

"Catch," was all he said.

Instinctively Harry caught the round object. His dad had always praised that he was good at catching and that he would be a Quidditch Star for sure. But this wasn't a Quidditch ball, it was simple apple. But the moment it touched Harry's hands, it turned grey and withered away. Harry flinched and dared not look at either adult, afraid of the expressions of fear and rejection he had seen from his family.

The reaction of the two was different, though.

"Well, I'll be damned. Iolanthe had to fuck over even more people, who would have thought," Nicholas chuckled, "As if she hadn't already caused enough strife and misery for half of the continent in her own time."

"Nicholas, behave yourself," Perenelle warned.

It didn't deter the man in the slightest. Instead, he stood up from his chair and rounded the table. He grabbed Harry's left arm by the wrist and turned it around, so he could have a look at the palm.

"Just as I thought," he hummed, "The same kind of array that Iolanthe had. How has no one ever noticed the strange pattern of lines on his hand? Are they all blind and dumb? This kind of carelessness gets people killed."

"Most people wouldn't expect their children to develop such powers. The odds are so bad that it just doesn't make sense to examine each and every child born with magic," Perenelle argued, "And who but us would even recognize this?"

"True," Nicholas agreed, "It's still stupid." The man sighed, as he continued to pull on Harry's arm, nearly pulling the young boy off of his chair. "Now let's seal this array for the time being."

Harry wasn't sure what the man was talking about, but as Nicholas began chanting something in a language the boy had never heard before, Perenelle began talking to him again, gently pulling his attention away from Nicholas and his hand.

"Don't worry, Harry, you will be fine. Once Nicholas is done, you can use your hands normally again. It might sting a bit at first, but you will be fine, I promise," Perenelle told him calmly, as she held his gaze. She even placed her gloved left hand on his head and ruffled his hair, just like his parents and Uncle Albus would usually do. It felt nice… it felt… normal. For the first time in three days, he felt almost normal, but that feeling didn't last for long.

A sharp pain shot through his palm, causing Harry to cry out in pain. He wanted to look at what Nicholas was doing to him, but Perenelle prevented it and forced him to keep looking at her by holding his chin with her other hand.

"Don't be afraid. It will be better soon," Perenelle said calmly. But as Nicholas moved on to the other hand, the boy cried out again.

The pain faded soon after, but Harry had long since passed out from the pain. Limply he hung in the arms of the Archon. Gently Perenelle cradled the boy to her chest, a grim look on her face.

"It's done," Nicholas announced, "The curse is sealed, for now. But this is a short-term solution at best. He needs to learn how to control it. The sooner the better. I will call in Amaranthine to help with this. She still owes me for that fuck up in Tunguska."

Perenelle nodded, as she picked the unconscious boy up. "The poor thing. With this kind of burden placed on his shoulders, his future in the Empire will be both glorious and terrible to behold."

Her eyes found the glowing runes now etched into the skin of Harry's hands. The golden glow dimmed quickly until there was nothing left both the thin outlines of the runes Nicholas had used to bind the cursed bloodline of the Peverell family.

"If he survives the next few years, you mean," Nicholas interjected, "You know how things go. Those with power are either claimed or cleansed by the powerful Houses."

Anger welled up in Perenelle's chest. Though she had never been a mother herself, she had nurtured many children to adulthood. Most became powerful servants of justice. Some of them, on the other hand… she rather remembered them as the children they had been, not the men and women they had become. But never had she allowed any of those children to come to harm. Harry would be no exception to this rule. And with her role as the Archon of Justice, his future role was easy to determine.

"Nicholas, make sure that all those fools in the Empire know that I claim this child as my own. He will serve me once he is old enough and anyone who dares to interfere will fall to the Flaming Sword of Justice itself," Perenelle declared evenly.

She didn't bother to wait for a reply from her husband, instead, she took the boy to the room her servants had prepared. Harry would be granted a day of rest. But once he awakens, his new life would begin. The life of a Fatebinder. The first to be raised from childhood to fill this role. One destined for true greatness.

* * *

"Speak!" the Archon of Shadows demanded, as he sat upon his throne, in the dark and otherwise abandoned throne room, hidden in the deepest bowels of Britain's Ministry.

"My lord, the rumors are true. The bloodline of House Peverell has emerged once more. The eldest son of James Potter has proven to be the first true heir in several centuries," the spy reported, as he cowered before the throne of his master.

Peverell, a name that promises great powers and even greater mysteries. Almost absentmindedly he played with the ring on his finger. Another part of the puzzle that is the key to the greatest power ever known to wizardkind. The power to command death itself. Three artifacts and the blood to unlock their secrets. To control them all… a feat unheard of in this day and age.

"Where is the boy?" he asked his spy.

The gutless maggot quivered in fear instead of answering. Only the liberal use of non-lethal curses would loosen his tongue.

"Forgive me, master. Forgive me!"

"Where is the boy, Wormtail!" he growled again. "Where is the Peverell heir?"

Wormtail began to stutter before another painful curse forced him to focus. "He's gone, master. Dumbledore came and took him away."

A roar of utter fury escaped the dark master, as he heard this. Dumbledore. Always Dumbledore. The throne in his side, the reason why he wasn't the sole ruler of Britannia's magical societies. Of all the people, it had to be the self-proclaimed Archon of Light who took the boy under his wing.

"But he no longer has him," Wormtail exclaimed quickly, frightened nearly witless. "He gave him away."

"Do not test my patience any further, Wormtail! Who has him?"

"Archon Flamel. He gave the boy to Archon Flamel, because of her connection to the last known Perenelle with the bloodline."

This was even worse. He was already in a state of Cold War with his fellow Archon on the British Isles. But Flamel… the Archon of Justice has always been one of the Overlord's favorites. Not to mention that she is married to the Archon of Lore, the one man who knew nearly every facet of the world and the magic that binds everything together.

"Begone, Wormtail. Don't you dare to show your useless hide before me unless I call for you," he ordered.

"Yes, master. Thank you for sparing me, master," the spy groveled some more before he quickly scurried away like the rat he is.

What to do? What to do? The Archon wasn't so sure which path to take. Attacking Flamel was out of the question. The chance to manage this without revealing himself would be so laughably small, even considering it would be a waste of time. And he wasn't powerful enough to stand against the combined might of other Archons and their dark master… yet.

But there was one thing he could do. A malicious smirk spread on his gaunt face, as a plan began to form in his mind. Yes. He knew exactly what to do. It would take time. It would take resources. But he would succeed.

With his newly hatched scheme in mind, Marvolo Gaunt, the Archon of Shadows, left his throne room to begin his preparations. He had all the time in the world to prepare and place his pieces in the right places. But in the end, he would reign supreme. First over Britain, then over all the world. He would succeed.

And then he would have his vengeance...

* * *

 **A/N: So much for this chapter.**

 **Harry will have to learn a lot and he won't have much of a happy childhood. Perenelle isn't exactly his fairy godmother and Nicholas just doesn't care.**

 **Voldemort in this story is similar yet different to his canon counterpart. To hide his low birth he has taken his mother's family name, calling himself Marvolo Gaunt instead of Tom Riddle. More powerful than others, he has become one of the two Archons on the British Isles who quarrel for control over the Province.**

 **Next chapter we will see some glimpses at Harry's training and his teachers. And he will meet his first real friend in this mad world. Until then, cya...**


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